


Just in case the power lines go down

by iwouldgetaniguana



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adorable dorks, Canon Divergence, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Identity Reveal, Insecurities, Just slightly, Nino is a bro, Oblivious Adrien, Rose/Juleka if you squint, because who are any of us kidding, plagg is not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7205549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwouldgetaniguana/pseuds/iwouldgetaniguana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien was maybe sort of almost trying to talk to his father about the modelling thing. Really! It’s not his fault he got sidetracked by his friend freaking out over blueberry muffins and his partner-in-defeating-crime being angry with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I hear you dancing on the floorboards above

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shiloa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiloa/gifts).



> What do I know about micro economics? Or Parisian school programs? Or modeling? Or fencing? Nothing. Nothing at all. Go with it people.
> 
> For Shiloa, who has a birthday! That is definitely 5000% today. Yes. Joyeux anniversaire, mon amie!

“And one more thing.”

Adrien, standing in his bedroom doorway, suppressed a groan. Natalie was _full_ of ‘one more things’. But he waited with his hand on the door for her to finish.

“Your father wants to know if you need anything for your submission to the Spring Art Gala your class is putting on.”

“Ah...” Adrien rubbed his neck. _‘About that,’_ he imagined himself saying. _‘I’ve actually decided not to do a photo shoot. Could you ask if he’d be willing to put in a word with my fencing instructor instead?’_

“No, that’s alright, Natalie,” was what he actually said. “I’ve got it under control. Tell him I said thanks!”

“Alright then.” With a nod, Natalie turned and walked back down the hallway.

Adrien sighed as he shut his door again, slumping against it.

“Good to see you’re finally sticking up for yourself,” Plagg teased, zooming out of his pocket.

Adrien rolled his eyes.

“You could have at least asked her for some Camembert,” his kwami groused.

“I just fed you this morning,” Adrien said with a weak glare, sitting back down at his desk. “And anyway, the Gala’s not for ages. I don’t need to worry about it anytime soon.”

*^^^*

Well, thought Adrien the next morning, that was only sort of true, since –

“A _bake sale_?” Chloé wailed. “But this is a gala for the _arts_!”

“It is indeed. But a bake sale is the most cost-effective way to raise money for it,” Miss Bustier explained from the front of the classroom, “And since the class voted against Mayor Bourgeois funding it, so that we could retain total creative control,” – Adrien’s classmates smirked –  “that’s what we’re going to do.”

Chloé slumped back in her seat, arms crossed.

“Baking can be a kind of art,” Adrien pointed out. “Have you ever seen the stuff Marinette’s dad makes?”

“Yeah!” Nino turned in his seat to face Marinette. “You should get your dad to contribute something! If we sold it for slightly cheaper for even just a day, we’d make a fortune!”

“I love those flower cookies he makes,” Rose swooned. “They’re _so_ adorable. They’d be perfect!”

“Well. A-actually,” Marinette stammered at her lap. “I was planning on making blueberry muffins.”

Even Miss Bustier stared at her.

“What?” Alya raised her eyebrows. “But your dad makes the best baked goods in the city!”

“I know!” Marinette’s head shot up. “I mean, thank you, everyone, for thinking so highly of my family’s bakery. But this is supposed to be a _student-run_ event! It wouldn’t feel right to make my dad do the work.”

“But muffins?” asked Alix. “Isn’t that a bit...average? Why not make something a bit more exciting, when you have the gear to do it?”

“Well, yes,” Marinette was back to staring at her lap, hands clasped in front of her. “But, uh, the thing is –” she glanced up, “I don’t know how to use them?”

There was silence for a second.

“Just because her family owns a bakery doesn’t mean Marinette herself knows how to bake!” Alya defended, hands on her hips.

“Your dad never taught you?” Rose looked sad.

“I, uh, never had much interest in it?” Marinette’s arms were flailing a bit now. “But I’m sure I can figure out how to make muffins! So put me down for that. Uh, please,” she added in the direction of their teacher.

“Very good,” Miss Bustier said, marking it down. “Everyone must contribute at least one type of baked good to sell. We’d like to have some variety, so if your heart’s set on making one thing in particular, speak now.”

As his classmates’ hands went up, Adrien turned to whisper to Marinette, “You really never learned how to bake?”

She blushed crimson. “N-no.” She frowned at him, then, and it hit Adrien like a smack in the face. “Why is that such a problem?”

“Not a problem!” he assured. “Just a surprise.”

But she kept frowning and looked away from him. The Gum Incident shot through his mind. Why was he still so bad at this?

“And Adrien? What will you be making?” came Miss Bustier’s pointed voice from over his shoulder.

He turned around, sheepish. “Uh, brownies?”

His classmates giggled.

“Nice try, man, but Kim beat you to it,” Nino said, nudging Adrien in the arm.

“Okay, uh...”

“Rice Krispie Squares?” Nino suggested, and Adrien could tell it was an offer to teach him how to make them.

“Yeah,” he agreed, relieved. “I’ll make those.”

Miss Bustier marked it down. “Alright then. Now we’ll split into teams of two for the logistics. We’ll need pairs to set up the sale area, do a radio announcement, hand out fliers –”

Marinette’s hand shot up, and Miss Bustier looked at her. “Yes, Marinette?”

“I’ll do the fliers,” Marinette said. “I mean, I can design them, if my partner will help me pass them out.”

From the corner of his eye, Adrien saw Alya’s arm start to lift, but it was suddenly the most important thing in the world to beat her to it. “I’ll do it!” He thrust his hand into the air. Everyone’s heads snapped towards him. “Uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I spend a lot of time in public spaces for my shoots anyway, so it won’t be any trouble to pass out fliers.”

Miss Bustier’s eyebrows had shot up, but she nodded. “Excellent. Marinette and Adrien will make and hand out fliers. Next...”

But Adrien had stopped listening. He sighed and slumped forward in his seat, resting his head on his palm and ignoring the looks his classmates were giving him.

Great. The planning for the actual gala hadn’t even started yet and already he was getting everything wrong.

*^^^*

“Yo, it seems like you’re spending a lot of time with Marinette lately,” Nino said as Adrien walked with him to lunch. He was smiling, one eyebrow curved up.

“Ye-es?” Adrien raised his own eyebrow.

“Any particular reason?” The smile was more of a smirk, really.

“She’s my friend?”

“Is that a question?”

“She’s my friend,” Adrien confirmed, sitting at a table and opening his lunchbox. “And I think I upset her, earlier –”

“So your solution is to spend the weekend working on fliers with her, instead of just talking to her during a break.” Nino sat opposite him and pointed a spoon at him. “Like now, for instance.”

Adrien felt his face heat up. “What are you getting at?”

Nino shrugged. “Do you like her?”

“Of course I li – ”

“Do you have a crush on her?”

Adrien gaped. “No, I - _you_ had a crush on her, I wouldn’t do that to you –”

Nino rolled his eyes. “Exactly. I _had_ a crush on her. I am now happily dating her best friend, who rocks. And dude, it’s not like you can control who you have a crush on. You should ask her out. Marinette, I mean.”

“I – no. You’re reading this wrong.” Adrien unwrapped a sandwich. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with Marinette, she’s great, I just –”

“C’mon, you gotta admit she’s cute.”

Marinette _was_ cute. Probably the cutest girl who had ever existed, if Adrien was being honest. But that was _beside the point_ –

“It’s not that.”

Nino raised another eyebrow at him over his thermos of stew.

“It’s just, I, uh, like someone else. No one you know,” Adrien added quickly. “I know her from, uh, work –”

“Your crush on Ladybug doesn’t count,” Nino deadpanned.

Adrien dropped his sandwich. “I – what –?” he choked out. “Why would you think –?”

“Dude, you check Alya’s Ladyblog more often than _I_ do, and I’m her boyfriend.”

Adrien let his head fall onto the table with a dull clang.

“Look,” Nino said, laughing. “I get it. Ladybug’s, like, a literal superhero. And I know we actually met her and she was really cool, and obviously super hot. But it’s like a celebrity crush, you know? It doesn’t count in real life because it’s never going to actually happen. It’s okay to swoon over Ladybug while dating a girl you like in real life who probably swoons over Jagged Stone and Chat Noir in her spare time.”

_‘Never going to actually happen’._

Also, Marinette was apparently, inexplicably, immune to Chat’s charm.

Adrien must have been silent too long, because Nino relented, “Hey man, you don’t have to date Marinette if you don’t want to. I’ve just noticed that you seem to really care about her.” He paused. “Also you talk about her, like, a lot.”

Adrien groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ‘Canon Divergence’ tag is there because this fic takes some of Adrien’s and Marinette’s character-development out of its canon context and dumps it all into this story. Same character-development, basically (based on my own interpretations, obviously), just conveniently and shamelessly repackaged for my own purposes. Also the reveal happens before Volpina shows up, so there’s that. It seems the power of artistic liberties has gone to my head – I am too far gone to be saved.
> 
> This fic is un-betaed, so if you catch any mistakes, or any part’s confusing, please let me know! Other comments are also appreciated. : )
> 
> Fic and chapter titles are from Greg Laswell’s ‘Landline’, which is a good angsty Ladynoir song, if you ever have need of one.


	2. I think the storm might take the screen door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette still has a hang-up about blueberry muffins, Ladybug has a hang-up too but she won’t talk about it, and Adrien’s own hang-up catches up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for all the kudos! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this.

When Adrien rang Marinette’s doorbell, he only had to wait a few seconds before he heard quick thumping footsteps, and then the door opened suddenly to reveal Marinette, grinning and blushing as usual, but also _wearing a pink apron_ and _covered in floor_.

Cutest girl in existence. Adrien’s mind stuttered to a halt. But then Ladybug jumped through it, and his stomach clenched. His cheeks were probably on fire.

“Hey,” Marinette panted. “You made it.”

“Yeah, I – I have actually been here before,” he smiled.

Her blush deepened. “Yeah! Of course! I mean, of course you have! Yeah! Just – um – the designs are in my room, you can help me pick one out before we run it to the printer’s,” she babbled, leading him through the entryway and up to her room.

“Sure thing,” Adrien replied, following her up. Her floor was covered with bits of crumpled up paper, her desk with sheets of paper and different coloured styling pens.

Marinette padded over to the desk, leaving a dusting trail of flour behind her.

“I have to ask, though,” Adrien said. She turned to him and he gestured to the flour. “What happened? Are you baking?”

“Oh!” She blushed again. “I, uh, was baking.” She waved her arms around. “Like you said! I mean obviously I was baking, I’m wearing an apron. I was just, you know, practicing for the bake sale. For making the muffins. For the bake sale.”

“That’s cool,” Adrien said, pulling out the I’m-sorry-if-I-didn’t-come-across-as-supportive-earlier smile he’d practiced in the mirror this morning. “I’m not much of a chef either, actually, so Nino’s going to have to walk me through the Rice Krispie things.”

She smiled at him, but it was tight. Pinched.

How to put her at ease? “I mean, I’ve never even tried to make bread before, so someone has to be there to make sure things don’t go a-rye.”

She rolled her eyes, which he’d never seen before. But then she blinked at him. “Since when do you make puns?”

“Oh!” His hand went to the back of his neck. “It’s new?”

She smiled like she was trying not to, and his stomach flopped. Probably because of Nino and his unfounded suggestions. Yes.

Marinette was still looking at him, but suddenly she started upright.  “So, uh, these are the designs I came up with.” She picked three papers off her desk and shoved them at Adrien. “Which one do you think would be the most eye-catching and easy-to-read?”

Why was she asking _him_? His biggest non-Chat achievement was standing still and letting people look at him. But here were three bright, popping fliers, each heralding their student bake sale, which Marinette had apparently drawn up _just today_.

“These are all amazing, Marinette, wow! You’re so talented at this kind of thing.” He took the fliers from her, but closer inspection did not make any of them less impressive. “Any of these would be great. And you’re probably a better judge of which one would work best. Do you have a favourite?”

“Oh, I – um, I’m kind of partial to the pink one.” Marinette pointed, her hand steady now, her voice more sure. “I feel it stands out most, but sometimes when I spend so much time working on something, I get too close to it to be able to tell if it’ll have the desired effect.”

Adrien smiled. “Well, I don’t think that’s a problem this time. The pink one it is. Let’s –”

A shrill beeping cut him off.

“Ah!” Marinette’s hands clutched at her hair. “The muffins!” And then she was scrambling back down the ladder at top speed.

He followed after her, rounding the corner into the domestic kitchen. Marinette was pulling something out of the oven. Something that smelt –

“They’re burnt!”

They were indeed. Not beyond a hope – just a ring of dark brown around the edge of each muffin – but not something you would want to sell, either.

“But the recipe said twenty minutes!” Marinette wailed. She picked up a book from the counter and scanned it frantically. “I followed the instructions exactly!”

“I guess they’re right when they say baking is more of an art than a science,” Adrien said. His chest felt dull. If the bake sale was going to be this hard, did he really think he was going to manage a good non-modelling submission for the actual gala? “Maybe it just takes practice.”

Marinette hung her head. “This isn’t the first batch I’ve tried,” she admitted. “I barely have enough time for this as it is, and the bake sale is next weekend!”

“Hey,” Adrien tried to sooth. “It’ll be okay. And I mean,” he hesitated. “You can always ask your dad for help if you run out of –”

“I’m not getting him to help me!” Marinette glared at him, and wow, how did someone so cute get so scary so fast?

“Uh...” Adrien held his hands out in front of him in vague defense. “I didn’t mean –”

“What, that I can’t make muffins by myself?” She put her hands on her hips. “Why does everyone think I can’t do this? I should be able to manage muffins for goodness’ sake, I mean, you don’t have to be a professional baker to make _muffins_!”

“Of course not,” Adrien tried. “I never thought –”

“Then why do you keep insisting I need help?” she demanded, gritting her teeth. “I’m not helpless! I’m not just some mild-mannered – I – I can do things by myself! I can do this myself. So it would be nice if everyone could stop doubting me.”

Silence rang in the room for several long seconds, Adrien sure that his eyebrows had never been higher.

Then Marinette’s face fell. “Oh...oh no, Adrien, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to blow up at you like that. I’ve just been really stressed lately, and...I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, well, we’ve all been there.” Adrien flashed her a smile, but it only made her wilt further. “If...if it helps any,” he stepped closer, close enough that he could have reached across the counter and touched her, “it doesn’t really matter if you can make muffins or not.” Her shoulders rose again, and he hurried to continue, “I mean, you can do lots of things! Your skills as a designer are already being recognized, and we’re only in middle school. And you’re a good leader, because you listen to people and make everyone feel comfortable. It’s really cool, actually.”

Marinette’s whole face had turned tomato red. “You – you think?” she squeaked.

Adrien chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I do. So it’s no big deal if you can’t bake. I mean, I’m sure you’ll be able to if you really want to learn, but don’t worry about getting it perfect before the bake sale. It’s okay if you need to ask for help.”

“I just...” Marinette sighed and looked away. “It’s a _student-run_ event. I’m a student! I should be able to do this.”

Adrien opened his mouth again but found nothing to say. Marinette shuffled away from him to replace the cookbook on a shelf and throw out the batch of muffins. Then she looked up at him with that same tight smile from before. “Do you need anything to eat before we go to the printer’s?”

Adrien shook his head.

“Let me just, uh, change then.” She disappeared into her attic room once more, Adrien staring after her.

What...had that been about?

*^^^*

Adrien was starting to wonder if there was anyone associated with his school who hadn’t been Akumatized at some point.

A fist-full of sharp pins made a beeline for him, and he ducked, cat ears flat. Sharp little thumps sounded on the classroom wall behind him.

Another handful of push-pins flew towards Ladybug, but she evaded them, flipping over desks and plastic chairs.

Control-Freak snarled. “My plan is the best! You will have to acknowledge that eventually!” She spun her metre-stick, a cloud of push-pins forming above her. Then she pointed the stick at Ladybug, and the pins zoomed towards their target.

Ladybug did another flip to avoid them, but tripped on the landing and fell awkwardly on her side. She looked up as Control-Freak bore down on her with the metre-stick –

Adrien leapt across the room, parrying the stick with his baton extended. “En garde!” he shouted, darting forward in a feint, but Control-Freak twisted away from him and towards the door.

“I will show all of Paris my perfect plan! And if they don’t agree with it, I’ll _make_ them!” the woman who was usually Miss Bustier shouted. “Stop me if you can,” she gloated, before slamming the door shut with a cackle.

Adrien ran to the door and pulled, but it was stuck. An opaque, whitish substance the consistency of molasses seeped under the door. He sniffed it.

“Glue?” He smirked. “What a sticky situation!” He bounded towards the classroom window. “But she’s wrong if she thinks we’re stuck!”

He turned around with a grin, expecting to see Ladybug, unimpressed, right next to him – but she was still on the floor.

“My lady?” He hurried to her side, but she was already getting to her feet.

“Ah, sorry,” she told the window as she walked past him towards it. She opened the latch and stepped onto the sill. “She’s probably gone to the TV station.” She gestured him forward. “C’mon!” And then she was zipping through the air on her yoyo, landing on a rooftop across the street.

Adrien extended his baton further, then pole-vaulted through the window to join her, leaping though the evening air.

Something was up, Adrien thought. Ladybug was off her game. Distracted. Was something bothering her? Was she okay? Why was _everything_ going wrong, lately?

Wait – what if it was something _he’d_ done? That car pun he’d made after their last battle, or that comment about her eyes?

Okay but that car joke had been hilarious. It was not his fault his partner did not recognize good humour. But maybe the flirting.... It had never seemed to faze her before, despite how clear she made it that _they_ weren’t happening. It was just part of their dynamic. And it’s not like Adrien had ever been able to tell her how he felt in any _other_ way. Only...if that’s not how she saw it...

Adrien nearly slipped on the edge of a roof, only just managing to set his baton down in time to catch himself. What if she’d had enough of it? Of _him_? What if he was making her feel harassed? Crap...

Ladybug landed on the TV station’s roof ahead of him and ran through the door to the stairwell without waiting for him to catch up. Crap, crap, _crap_.

He somersaulted onto the roof and sprinted after her, jumping down a set of stairs to land next to her. “Wait!” he said, before she could go down the next flight. She paused to look at him, and Adrien took a deep breath. “Are...are you alright?” He bit back a ‘my lady’.

Ladybug blinked. “What? Of course! I’m keeping up aren’t I?”

“No, I meant...is something bothering you? You seem a little off today.”

Ladybug sighed and shook her head. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.” She smiled at him, but it was the same tight smile that Marinette had given him a couple days ago.

His stomach contracted as she made to continue down the stairs again. “If...if I’ve done something that upset you, you should tell me. I don’t – I didn’t mean to, whatever it was.”

Her foot hovered in mid-air. “What? No! That’s not it at all. What would you have done to upset me?”

Adrien’s knees nearly collapsed. To disguise it, he leaned an arm against the wall. “I – uh – just wondered.” Ladybug frowned and titled her head at him, and Adrien realized he’d dropped his swagger. He gave a slight bow. “I am a gentleman, after all.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, and Adrien breathed properly again. “Thanks for your concern, kitty-cat, but it’s nothing you can help me with. It’s – it’s a regular-life thing, it’s not important.” She turned and hurried down the stairs, and Adrien hurried after her.

When they were through the doors to the hall below, he took another breath. “I could help you, you know.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, walking quickly towards the broadcasting room.

“I mean, you’re my friend,” he continued. Her gaze on him was steady. “And friends help each other. Obviously we have some world-saving to do at the moment, but later, if you want to talk...”

Ladybug turned her gaze forward and sped up. “Chat, for the _last time_ –”

“We wouldn’t have to reveal our identities!” he assured her, matching her pace. “We could talk from opposite sides of a door or something.”

“I’m not telling you anything about my life!”

He faltered. “You don’t trust me?”

She turned him, face open. “Chat. It’s not about trust. Of course I trust you, you know that.”

“Then what _is_ it about?”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I like to keep my personal and superhero lives separate.”

Adrien held up his hands. “Okay! Okay, I’ll respect that. But, _why_? If you’re telling me you don’t want to be friends –”

“Of course we’re friends!”

“Exactly! I’m so confused!”

Ladybug all but growled, throwing her arms down. “You’re friends with _Ladybug_! Not – not whoever I am without this mask.”

 _What?_ “But...you’d still be you without the mask on.”

“No, I wouldn’t!”

Adrien tried to say ‘of course you would?’ but was cut off by a memory – ‘Since when do you make puns?’

Marinette had been right: Adrien without the mask didn’t make puns. Adrien without the mask didn’t flirt or strut, Adrien without the mask didn’t want to rock the boat or stand out. He was, well...

Kind of boring.

Ladybug turned away and stomped up the corridor. “When I’m Ladybug, I’m...I’m a freaking superhero! I can swing between buildings and outsmart villains and save people! But when I’m...when I’m just me, I’m not anything special! I can’t even manage to make –” She pinched her nose. “I’m just a regular nobody, we’re not the same at all.”

“Well, then, who do you think _I_ am, usually?” Adrien retorted, catching up to her. “A circus performer? A fencing prodigy, a famous philanthropist? I’m just a regular guy, too! I –”

“Shut up! I don’t want to know. You’re Chat, and I’m Ladybug, and that’s all we need to know to do our job.”

“But –”

“Which is what we need to do _right now_.”

They had reached the end of the hall, where the broadcasting room was. Ladybug ran at the doors to try to kick them open, but they didn’t budge. More glue oozed through the gaps.

“If you please.” She stepped back and gestured him towards the door.

Adrien grit his teeth. “As you wish, my lady,” he ground out. He raised his hand into the air. “Cataclysm!”

*^^^*

Dusk made his room look really dark when he didn’t have the lights on, Adrien thought.

“Or I suppose you could just sulk some more,” Plagg remarked.

When had his kwami started talking? From the shuffling that Adrien could hear from where he was lying on his bed with an arm thrown over his face, Plagg was probably snooping through his things again. Whatever.

The shuffling continued for a few moments, then stopped. A second later, Adrien could feel Plagg landing on his head.

“Hey –” Plagg started.

There was a knock at Adrien’s door.

Adrien groaned a rolled over.

The knocking came again, louder.

“I’m coming!” Adrien shouted, dragging himself off the bed. Maybe if he played sick, Natalie would leave him be for a while. Maybe she would let him sleep in tomorrow, or skip his Mandarin lesson...

Adrien ambled to the door, opened it, looked up, and stopped.

“Adrien,” greeted his father. He did not look pleased.

“Father.” Adrien fidgeted. “Is something wrong?”

His father strode past him into the room, and Adrien gulped. He shut his bedroom door.

“You missed your photo shoot this afternoon,” his father said, turning towards him with his arms clasped behind his back.

Oh crap. Adrien’s eyes widened. He’d completely forgotten. And he had no excuse, except that maybe all he’d been able to hear for the rest of the day had been Ladybug’s sharp ‘shut up,’ and maybe he had snuck out for a walk that afternoon to clear his head, and maybe when Natalie had called wondering where he was he’d said something snappish and hung up, and maybe that hadn’t been his best idea ever, but –

“Well?” his father demanded.

“I’m sorry!” Adrien said, spreading his hands. “Really, Father. I forgot. I’ll make it up to you.”

“I told you, you are never to be _anywhere_ without your bodyguard.” His father’s eyes narrowed. “What were you doing all afternoon? If you were merely hanging about with some friends from your new school –”

“No!” Adrien panicked. “They had nothing to do with it. I just wanted to spend some time alone outside and lost track of time. It’s completely my fault.”

His father looked unimpressed.

“I really will make it up to you,” Adrien promised.

“You will,” his father agreed. “You will start by being grounded for the next week, until your class’ bake sale. You are to be in your room at all times, unless you are in class or at the rescheduled shoot on Friday afternoon. You will also agree to do an interview for the article being printed about us next month.”

An interview. Adrien slumped. “Yes, Father.”

“And while I’m here, I would like to see what you’ve accomplished so far on the shoot you’re directing for the gala.”

Adrien’s throat dried up. “What I’ve got so far?”

“Yes.”

Adrien shifted his feet, then spread his hands again. “I’ve been really busy, Father. I haven’t really got anything yet.”

His father’s eyes narrowed again. “Nothing?”

Adrien shook his head, just slightly.

His father’s frown was severe. “I thought I’d made it clear how important this could be for your career.”

“You did –”

“Then I do not see how it could have failed to be your _top priority_.”

“I’m sorry,” Adrien rasped.

“As am I,” his father replied, tone clipped. He walked past Adrien to the door, then looked back over his shoulder. “Since you will be spending most of your time here for the next week, I expect you to use it to make the progress you should have completed already,” he said, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Tears blurred Adrien’s vision. He rubbed at them with his wrists, but they kept coming, so he sank onto the sofa and buried his head in his hands.

Plagg, for once, said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES Adrien Agreste = Ariel, The Little Mermaid, YOU’RE WELCOME.
> 
> I would love to say I came up with that rye pun myself, but alas, I had to use the internet.
> 
> I also did not intend any offense to models, or their careers. I just feel that Adrien (at least in this fic) doesn’t feel that him being a model is something impressive.


	3. All I ever needed was a landline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien goes to the bake sale, and then has a surprise guest at dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the all the kudos! :) They're very encouraging. 
> 
> The internet (truly, the most reliable of sources), told me that Rice Krispies are sold in France, but not in Paris. I make no claims to realism.

Well, at least the weather was nice. It would be a shame if they had to move the bake sale inside when the courtyard was decorated and everything. Adrien stared at a passing cloud for a few seconds, before sighing and moving to one of the tables that had been set up for his class to display their treats.

He was just uncovering his lumpy Rice Krispie Squares when he heard a harsh squeal behind him. He whipped around to see Rose, eyes wide and hands clapped over her mouth, jumping up and down next to Juleka’s table and staring at a plate of sugar cookies.

“They’re flower shaped! Oh, they’re so pretty, Juleka!”

Juleka shrugged. “We had the cookie cutter at home.”

“But you iced them so well! Look at all the colours!”

Juleka shrugged again.

“Don’t be modest, they’re amazing!” Rose exclaimed, throwing her arms around her friend.

Juleka blushed, smiling. “Thanks.”

Adrien’s lips lifted a little too as he turned back to his own treats. Maybe Juleka’s and everyone else’s would be so great that no one would even notice his...

“Adrien!”

He turned to see Marinette grinning at him and holding a baking tin. “Do you mind if I set up here?” She motioned to the other half of his table.

“Please,” he said, pulling out the chair for her. “Um,” he hesitated, “how did your baking go?”

Marinette chuckled and ducked her head as she sat down. “Oh, it – well, I had one more failed batch, but they turned out fine, in the end. At least I think they did.” She pulled the lid off her tin and peered inside.

Adrien leaned over her shoulder. “Well, they both look and smell amazing.”

Marinette hiccupped and then laughed faintly, scratching the back of her head. “Uh, thanks!”

“I knew you’d figure it out.” He smiled at her as he sat down in the chair beside hers.

She blushed. “Well, I didn’t. So – so thanks for your vote of confidence last weekend. It – um...thank you.”

“No problem, Marinette.”

She looked right into his eyes for a second – _wow so blue_ – before ducking her head again and glancing around. Her eyes landed on his side of the table. “Your Rice Krispie Squares look...um –”

“Like I accidentally sat on them?”

Marinette laughed, then clapped a hand to her mouth with wide eyes, blush working all the way up to her hair.

Adrien burst out laughing, and bit by bit her shoulders relaxed until they were chuckling together.

“I’m sorry,” she said eventually.

He shrugged. “You spent all week practicing to get yours right. I’ve only tried baking this one time. Of course mine aren’t any good.”

“I’m – I’m sure they’re _good_ ,” Marinette said, smile sliding into a frown.

“Nah.” Adrien slumped and looked over at his lumpy confections. “I’m not really good at, you know...”

Using the kitchen. Making things. Helping the people I love.

Marinette opened her mouth and took a breath, but before she could say anything, Miss Bustier’s voice rang out.

“Alright class, five minutes until our bake sale officially starts! Everyone to your stations, please. Our promotions seem to have been quite effective, so make sure you’re ready!”

Overall, the bake sale went well, but in terms of individual scores, Adrien thought he ranked pretty low. Juleka’s flower cookies were a hit, as were Nathaniel’s ginger snaps, but almost nobody even looked at Adrien’s squares, and the one time somebody did, he was too distracted to even realize until Marinette had already sold one for him. At least her muffins seemed to be selling okay.

Finally the courtyard emptied of customers, and Adrien rubbed his hands down his face. He stood, starting to re-wrap his Rice-Krispie Squares, when he heard a squeak from beside him.

“Can – can I have one of your Rice Krispie Squares?” Marinette asked, standing too.

Adrien’s eyebrows shot up.

“I’ll pay for it! Of course.”

“I...wasn’t accusing you of thievery?”

“I just – would like to try one! Seeing as it’s, you know, the first thing you’ve baked. That’s important!” Her grin was too wide. Around them, their classmates were starting to fold chairs and take down posters.

Adrien tried to smile at her. “I appreciate that, Marinette. But you don’t have to buy one just to make me feel better.”

“Oh! But –”

“And I’m – uh – not really upset about the Rice Krispies?” He looked down at the table in front of them. “There’s just been something else on my mind.” He shrugged. “Sorry for making you worry.”

“No!” Marinette exclaimed, waving her hands in front of her, “It’s, um, fine! Really. We’re friends, aren’t we? Do you, um,” her voice rose an octave, “want to talk about it?”

Adrien started to shake his head, but stopped. ‘ _Friends help each other_ ,’ was what he’d said to Ladybug. ‘ _It’s okay if you need to ask for help_ ,’ he’d told Marinette herself last week. Was he going to be a hypocrite on top of everything else?

“U-unless you don’t want to –” Marinette went on, “I-I didn’t mean to pry –”

“No, no,” Adrien assured her, looking back at her. “It’s, well...” he rubbed his neck. Telling her about his father would only make things worse. But Ladybug.... “A friend of mine is upset with me.”

“Oh?” Marinette arranged her features into a soft sort of worry. “How come?”

“Well...” Adrien looked away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I think I really made her angry, but I’m not sure why...or, I do know why, but not the ‘why’ to the why, you know?” He sighed. “I want to make things right, but I don’t know how to do that when she keeps shutting me out.”

Marinette’s voice was small. “It seems like you really care about her.”

Adrien scuffed his shoe and looked at the now cloudless sky. “I really, really do.” He forced a laugh. “I don’t think she feels the same, but I still want to be there for her, if I can. Only, I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.” He tried for another smile and looked over at Marinette. “Any advice?”

She startled. “From _me_?”

“Yeah.” Adrien turned to face her fully. “You’re good with people. And I trust you.”

Marinette blushed, but for a second, her face scrunched like she was about to cry. Wait, what –

“M-maybe,” Marinette stammered, her voice wavering, “Maybe let her set the terms? Like, if you want to help her, tell her you’re there for her however she needs, and let her decide what that is?”

But wasn’t that what he’d tried to do? “I did offer to help her,” Adrien explained, “but she said she didn’t want to talk to me about it. How can I help if she won’t even tell me anything?”

The table next to theirs scraped against the pavement as Alix and Nathaniel dragged it back towards its usual place against the wall. Marinette was staring at her hands clasped in front of her. “Uh...maybe...make her some tea?”

Adrien tilted his head. “Tea?”

“Um.” Marinette glanced up at him, but quickly away again. “That’s what my parents do, when I’m upset but don’t want to talk about it. They bring me tea. But,” she fidgeted, “maybe she prefers coffee? I don’t know....”

“And the tea makes you feel better?” Adrien asked.

Marinette bit her lip. “It makes me feel like I can count on them, even if I choose not to.”

“Why wouldn’t you want their help?” Adrien wondered. She didn’t even need an appointment to talk to them.

“Well.” Marinette looked over at her half-empty muffin tin. “Sometimes I just have to do things on my own.”

_Oh._

“So,” Adrien tried, “I should just be there for my friend, even if she doesn’t want me to do anything specifically about what’s bothering her?”

“Yeah,” Marinette breathed, looking up at him. “That.” She gave a wobbly smile. “She’s a lucky girl.”

Adrien tilted his head again.

“For having a – a friend like you.”

Adrien blushed and looked back at his shoes. “I’m not that great.”

“What? Of course you are!”

Adrien looked up to find that Marinette’s blush was worse than ever, but she was standing straight and meeting his gaze.

“What,” she said, “are you really going to sell yourself short after the pep-talk you gave me last weekend?”

Adrien winced. “It wasn’t really a pep-talk...”

“You’re genuinely kind,” she insisted. “You never overlook anyone. You support people. And you’re, you know,” she waved her hand at him, “a literal, actual model.”

Adrien was pretty sure _he_ was the one blushing, now, but – “I – well, I don’t actually –” He caught himself. “Thanks, Marinette.”

But she’d caught him, too. “What? What is it?”

He looked to the side, then back at her. Their class was almost finished with the clean-up. He could hear Nino and Alya laughing over by the doors. “What would you think if I told you I didn’t want to do a modeling portfolio for the gala?”

Marinette’s eyes widened, but she asked, “Is there something else you want to do?”

“Kind of. But –” He shrugged. “It’s dumb, but I was thinking of maybe doing a choreographed fencing routine, with a partner.”

Marinette beamed. “That sounds great! You’re really good at fencing.”

Huh?

“I’ve! Uh, heard.” Marinette scratched the back of her head. “I’m, um, really looking forward to it.”

It was like gravity had stopped working on his chest. “Yeah? You really think it would be good?”

“Of course!”

“You don’t think...I don’t know.” He tried not to slump again. “I mean, it wouldn’t be super fancy or anything, no flips, or leaping off buildings...”

Marinette smiled and put a hand on her hip. “It’s a middle-school gala, not an A-list film.”

“No, I know.” Adrien looked around the courtyard, colourful scraps of paper littering the floor. “It’s just – it wouldn’t really compare to any of the stuff we see in real life now, what with Ladybug and Chat Noir running around.”

Her voice was gentle. “Adrien, no one expects you to be a superhero.”

The gravity was back. “Heh, yeah... but, I don’t know.” He glanced at her. “Wouldn’t it be kinda lame, doing something like this when Chat Noir’s going around pole-vaulting and somersaulting, and fighting off a dozen bad-guys at once? I couldn’t do anything anywhere _near_ that cool.”

Marinette was smirking now – that was new. “Oh right, I forgot you were a Chat Noir fan.”

“Well – yeah. I mean, you don’t think he’s cool?”

She shrugged. “I think he’s kind of a show-off.”

Adrien gaped at her.

“I mean,” she hurried, “it’s really great how he’s always saving us. He’s really dependable and everything. But you don’t need to be flashy to be impressive.”

“Don’t forget to read chapter five!” Miss Bustier called out, and Adrien realized that most their classmates were leaving. Nino waved at him to hurry up.

“So...” Adrien looked back at Marinette. “What _do_ you need to be impressive?”

Marinette smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “Just do what you want to do for the art gala, Adrien. Don’t worry about what other people are going to think.”

*^^^*

A few days later, Adrien sat down for dinner in his dining room, taunt as a high wire.

_Tic-tok, tic-tok_.

...next to a very loud clock. What was up with that? Had they changed it? Had he just never noticed?

_Tic-tok, tic-tok_.

Adrien heard footsteps. He looked up to see his father, tall and imposing, regarding him.

“Good evening, Adrien.”

Adrien stood from the table. “Father? You’re here?” He shifted. “Did you, uh, get my message?”

“I did,” his father replied, tone neutral. “And I thought that since you said you had something to discuss with me, we might as well do it over dinner.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah! Great,” Adrien managed, sitting back down.

His father stood still for another second, surveying the table, before pulling out the chair on Adrien’s right and sitting with a crisp rustle of fabric.

_Tic-tok, tic-tok._

With the creak of a door, their butler came in, placed a silver platter before each of them, and then walked out again. Adrien stared at his pieces of roast chicken, stomach far too tight to eat.

“So?” his father began, cutting into his own chicken. “What was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“Uh...Well.” Adrien tried to clear his throat, but it came out sounding more like a cough. “About the modeling.”

His father glared at him.

“For the Spring Arts Gala!” Adrien clarified.

The glare turned into a frown. “I...trust you’ve been making progress.”

“Well, um, not exactly,” Adrien stammered. “I can explain!” he assured, as his father’s glare returned. “There’s, uh...a reason, why I wasn’t making any progress on putting together a shoot.”

His father arched one, dangerous eyebrow. “And that reason is...”

Adrien took a breath. “The thing is...I was actually hoping to do something else for the gala?”

His father went very still. “Something else?”

Adrien swallowed. “Yeah. A fencing thing.” When his father didn’t stop him, he continued, “A choreographed fencing routine with a partner. Maybe we could offer volunteer hours to one of the other fencing students for that?”

_Tic-tok, tic-tok._

His father set down his utensils. “You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“I...didn’t have the concept fully figured out yet. But now I do! And I really think it would work!”

His father regarded him a moment. Adrien tried to look as resolved as possible.

Then his father sighed. “Adrien. I know I’ve been giving you more freedom lately, but that is because I expect you to use that freedom _responsibly_. And wasting the opportunity I’ve given you –”

“It’s a _school_ gala!” Adrien burst out. “ _My class_ is putting it on, the students are running it for themselves – we’re supposed to use this opportunity to pursue our _own_ interests, that’s the point!”

“You are not just a student,” his father snapped, “You are _my son_. And directing a photo shoot is very much in your interest.”

Adrien deflated. His father had used the “my son” card. How was he supposed to get through to him now?

_Tic-tok, tic-tok._

His father went back to cutting his chicken. He ate a piece, glanced sideways and Adrien, then said, “Your fencing instructor tells me that you’re a fine student. I’m sure you could come up with something acceptable for the gala. But you’re a _professional_ model, Adrien. You understand the art. A portfolio of a shoot directed by you would be of a far higher quality than whatever you could manage in your first attempt at choreographing fencing, and as I explained to you before, be far more impressive to those observing your career. It’s the smart thing to do.”

“I know,” Adrien murmured, looking at the table.

_‘Be far more impressive...’_

Why did that make him so depressed?

_‘Good to see you’re finally sticking up for yourself.’_

If Plagg was allowed to have the last word, all would truly be lost.

Adrien sat up straighter. “Father.” He waited until his father was looking at him. “I know that everyone is expecting a fancy photo portfolio, and that my fencing routine might not turn out to be anything special. But I.... I really _really_ want to do it. I love fencing. I love planning the moves, and practicing them. And the truth is...I just don’t like modeling very much.”

_Tic-tok, tic-tok._

His father’s mouth formed a hard line. “If you think I’m going to let you throw away the future I’ve worked so hard to build for you –”

“I’m not saying that!” Adrien clutched at the table. “I know what it means to you. I’m just saying...let me do this. For the gala. Let me do something that’s, that’s _me_ for a change.”

The line of his father’s mouth did not change.

“And maybe it won’t be any good,” Adrien admitted, “but at least I’ll have tried. At least _I’ll_ be the one that did it.”

The line became a light frown. “You’re saying you would rather try and fail at this than not try to do it at all?”

“Uh.” _Was_ that what he was saying? He remembered Marinette’s hand on his shoulder. “Yes.”

_Tic-tok, tic-tok._

His father turned back to his food. “A commendable work ethic.”

Adrien’s eyes went wide.

“You may do this fencing routine for the gala,” his father went on. “But you will continue with your modeling work.” He looked Adrien square in the eyes. “And I do expect you to direct your own photo shoot at some point.”

Adrien tried not to breathe. “Yes, father.”

His father looked away again. “Though I suppose I will have to have Natalie re-work your modeling schedule for the next few weeks, so that you have adequate time to prepare for the gala. You’ve left this rather late.”

“Thank you, Father!” Adrien’s hand twitched. Would it be alright to hug him? Maybe just squeeze his shoulder? How did this work?

_Tic-tok, tic-tok._

“Alright, settle down.” His father readjusted his napkin. “Let us finish our meal in peace.”

Adrien nodded, trying not to kick his feet back and forth in bridled joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaack, I’m sorry for the long wait! My computer and I each had meltdowns, and then the last scene wasn’t working so I had to rewrite it like FOURTEEN TIMES and then I realized the first scene was like only dialogue floating in empty space and had to fix it HELP ME
> 
> With that in mind, I would really like to know what you thought of this chapter, and its conversations. Do they it work? Was it a disaster? Also, how are you liking the fic in general? It’d really help me to know what you’re thinking. Thanks!


	4. All I needed would never be enough for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien makes tea, has a romantic crisis, and finally arrives at the art gala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the comments and continued kudos, they give me life! I’m really sorry for the delay both in responding to comments and in updating, but real life has been a bummer. I tried to put a lot of cute in this finale, so hopefully that will assuage you.
> 
> P.S. Does it count as an xmas present now? Enjoy, Shiloa :P

“Bye bye, little butterfly,” Ladybug sung as she released the purified Akuma into the park.

Adrien watched, baton still in hand, as the butterfly flew up over the trees of the park.

Ladybug threw the broken phone charm into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

A swarm of magic ladybugs fixed the bridge, the lamp posts, and the phone charm, which reappeared in the little boy’s hand as he returned to normal.

“Wha? Huh?” cried the boy, kneeling on the pavement. His dad rushed over to him.

Ladybug turned to Adrien, fist out-stretched. “Bien joué!” Her face fell when he didn’t reciprocate. “Chat?”

“Um. Sorry.” He held out his fist as an after-thought, but she let it hang.

“I guess it was your turn to be distracted today,” she said. “What’s up?”

_What’s up_. Like their fight last time hadn’t even been a thing.

He collapsed his baton and stowed it behind his back. “Can I talk to you, uh, later?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Later?”

“I know we have to transform back now,” – his ring gave a warning beep – “but maybe we could meet up later tonight somewhere? Still in our suits, just, without the Akuma battle.”

She frowned. “Is this about last time?”

Adrien winced. “A little. But not about you, exactly,” he assured her. “More about me. I just...need to tell you something. Not my identity! Just...” Darn it. Hadn’t he rehearsed this?

Now Ladybug looked worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” He went for a smile. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

She put a hand on her hip, searching his face. Then her lips quirked upwards. “This isn’t an excuse for more of your flirting, is it?” she asked, with a huge roll of her eyes.

“No, no,” Adrien tried to laugh, his stomach dropping. His ring beeped again. “It’s important, I promise.”

Her smile softened. “Alright,” she said. Her hand brushed his arm. “How does tonight at ten sound?”

And so five hours later, Adrien transformed and made his way to the roof of Le Grand Paris, a small bag slung over his shoulder.

He found Ladybug leaning against the railing, well away from the pool, looking out over Paris.

“Hey,” he said, to let her know he’d arrived.

She turned to him, expression curious. “Hey. So what’s this all about?”

“Um,” he started, looking down. “Uh, first –” he opened his bag and clasped his clawed hand around a thermos, which he held out towards her. “Here!”

She took it, eyes wide. “What’s this?”

“Tea!”

She stared at him.

“Um, sorry. I heard tea was good for when people are feeling down. I don’t know if you even like tea, but...it’s warm.” He smiled at her, and it probably only wobbled a little.

“I, uh.” Was she blushing? “I do like tea, actually. Thank you. But I, um. I’m actually feeling better than I was last time we met, so please don’t worry about it.” She took a sip of the tea anyway, and perked up. “This is good though.”

“Oh. Good. I’m, uh.” What were his hands doing? “Glad you like it.”

She nodded, but then pursed her lips. “I thought...this wasn’t about me.”

“I – uh. Guess it sort of is? I just needed to say something, and I guess it’s kind of about you, but –” _Cool it, bro_ , he told himself, and it sounded like Nino. “Look,” he started again. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I just wanted to apologize for upsetting you, the other day. And to say...I’m here for you. If you, um, need me. And if you don’t, well,” he went for a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too.”

Ladybug raised her eyebrows. “That’s quite a change of tactics.”

“I know.” He sighed and rubbed his neck. “But if I’m honest, you’re not the only one who’s more confident with the mask on. I get it. So I don’t want to push you.” He looked at her. Her eyebrows were still raised, but she didn’t look mad. He looked away again. “But I did want to tell you something about my regular life.” Her face hardened, and he added, “No specifics! I just – it’s important to me.”

Her eyes flicked across his face for a few seconds, and then she relaxed. “Okay then.”

“Uh, right. Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Recently...a friend encouraged me to do something that I really wanted to do, and – it’s good. It feels, _great_ , to try something, to _be_ someone that I like, without the mask on. I’m, uh, bad at that. Usually. I always feel like I’m getting it wrong. So...I guess I wanted to say that it’s okay if you want to keep your regular self and Ladybug separate, but. It’s okay to give yourself a chance, too. Just because you can’t do back-flips without your superpowers, doesn’t mean you can’t do _anything_. It doesn’t have to be perfect, if it’s something you want to do.”

Ladybug looked away for a moment, then sipped her tea. “I guess I _can_ make muffins, sort of.”

Adrien’s cat ears twitched. “What?”

Ladybug smiled at him. “That’s actually why I was so short with you last time. I’m sorry. I was trying to do something on my own as, you know, the regular me, and it wasn’t going well, but...” she shrugged. “I got there in the end. And it didn’t _save Paris_ , or anything...”

He grinned. “But you still felt proud of yourself?”

She grinned back. “Yeah.” Then she titled her head. “You really want to be friends in normal life?”

Adrien jolted upright, heart hammering. “Only if you’re offering.”

“Why?”

“Why do I want to know you without the mask on?”

She nodded.

“I just really like –” his courage failed him, “spending time with you. And it would be really nice to do that without being in the middle of a battle.”

She rubbed her chin, smirking. “It _does_ make conversation rather difficult.”

Adrien wasn’t breathing. “Right.”

Ladybug let out a puff of air. “Alright then.”

And now his pulse was racing. “What? Really?”

She laughed. “ _Down_ , kitty. Yes, really.”

“I just – really?”

“Yes. I could use a friend like you in my day-to-day life.”

Adrien’s smile was sudden and wide. “A friend who’s charming? Hilarious? Gorgeous?”

Ladybug was smiling, too, but she rolled her eyes. “ _Dependable_. And it’s actually nice, talking about this sort of stuff. If we’re going to have complicated double-identities, we should probably stick together.”

He beamed at her. “I couldn’t agree more.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Well, then.” She paused, eyes wide. “Oh, gosh. How to do this?”

Adrien shrugged. “Count to three?”

“No, I mean, just, give me a second.” Ladybug clenched her eyes shut, took a couple of deep breaths. “Okay. Okay. Spots off.”

Her suit melted away, first revealing her feat, then torso, face –

Adrien’s jaw dropped.

“Uh,” Marinette fidgeted. “Hi.”

“Marinette?” he choked.

Her hands were back on her hips. “You’re supposed to transform, too!”

“Sorry! Plagg, claws in. Sorry,” he repeated as he was slowly unmasked, too. “You just surprised me.”

Now her jaw dropped. “ _Adrien_?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Surprise?”

“I –” she gaped, opening and closing her mouth. “But – you – how – we – but you – _how_?”

He chuckled, but it got stuck in his throat. “Good summary.”

“ _No way_ ,” she breathed.

Adrien’s chest felt heavy again. “I guess it is pretty unexpected...”

Marinette’s face did a crumply thing.

“No, I mean! I mean not you, actually.” Mysterious absences, standing up to Chloé, giving good advice.... “Actually, for you,” his voice cracked, “it makes a lot of sense.”

Her eyes widened. “It _does_?”

“Well, like I said,” Adrien blushed and looked down at his feet. “A good leader, really talented –”

“B-b-but.” Marinette’s arms flailed.

He laughed. “Yeah, the stuttering does throw me off a little. I never would have guessed! But, I mean, it’s not like I act the same way in class –”

“With the flirting!” She pointed at him. “You never flirt! And the – without your stupid _swagger_! And,” her eyes got even wider. “The puns.”

Adrien shrugged, rubbing his neck again. “Yeah.”

The wind whistled as they just stared at each other.

Then Marinette smirked, and it was almost like Ladybug smirking. “So kind, considerate Adrien, who doesn’t even like to sign autographs, secretly likes showing off.”

“Hey!” Adrien protested. “The puns aren’t because I’m trying to show off! I actually,” his blush returned, “just really, really like puns.”

She raised an eyebrow, grin widening.

“You told me not to care what other people think! Well,” he spread his arms out, grinning as well. “I like puns. Deal with it.”

Marinette groaned. “I guess I’m going to have to, now that the cat’s out of the bag.”

_Cat’s_ –

Holycrap –

“Yes!” Adrien punched the air. “Yes, you did. Best day of my life!”

Her smile lit up the night sky.

*^^^*

“You know she stares at you during class.”

“Plagg!” Adrien whipped his head around, but there was no one else in the locker room. “You are supposed to be _hiding_ in class! Not spying on La – rinette,” he spluttered.

“Smooth,” his kwami quipped, lounging on a sweater in Adrien’s locker. “You know she’s _always_ stared at you during class, right?”

“I – what?” Adrien’s heart thumped. “Really? Why?”

“Hey, I just tell it like I see it. You wanna know why, maybe you should ask the lady.”

“But –”

“Or you could just confess your love to her. You know, like you were planning on doing _months_ ago.”

Adrien felt himself turning crimson. “I –”

“Now that you know who she is, it should be easy, right?” Plagg floated up to hover in front of Adrien’s face. “Or does having the mystery solved take all the romance out of it for you?”

“You –” Adrien made a grab for him, but Plagg zoomed out of reach and out of sight. “Hey –”

“Adrien?” called a different voice.

Adrien spun around and froze. “Hey, Nino.”

Nino walked over to him. “Hey, man. What are you doing? Lunch has started.”

“I’m,” Adrien gestured, “um...”

Nino leaned against the row of lockers. “Talking to yourself in the locker room?”

Adrien rubbed his neck. “Kind of.”

“You know, dude, this is really getting out of hand.”

“What?” Crap, Nino had noticed! Okay so maybe Adrien wasn’t as careful talking to Plagg as he should be but it’s not like Plagg made it any easier –

“Your not-crush on Marinette. You’ve been staring at her all week, and now you’re berating yourself out loud in empty rooms.” Nino shook his head, smiling. “It’s not healthy.”

Oh. Well that was fine, then. Adrien paused, then closed his locker and leaned against it. “Okay, so...what _would_ be healthy?”

Nino punched his arm. “Just ask her out! Like I said. It’s not rocket science.”

Adrien glared at him. “I seem to recall that when our positions were reversed, you weren’t quite so blazé.”

Nino held up his hands. “Okay, okay, fair. But who was the one telling me to just go for it?” He met Adrien’s eyes.

Adrien sighed and hung his head. “I know,” he groaned. “But it’s not that simple this time.”

Nino raised an eyebrow. “Because...”

“Because we’re friends!” Adrien looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to mess up what we have if she doesn’t like me back.”

“Who says she doesn’t like you back?”

“Well, I mean....” She herself. All the time. “Who says she does? I just don’t want to pressure her. What if she doesn’t want that kind of attention?”

“So, what, are you gonna start acting like Chloé does with you?”

“Wha –” Adrien spluttered. “Of course not!”

“Then you’re fine.” Nino pulled Adrien forward and slung an arm around his shoulders. “She knows you’ll respect her decision.”

Well. She _had_ said she trusted him, so maybe that was true.

Nino thumped Adrien’s back. “But don’t worry so much, okay? I actually legit think she’s into you.”

Adrien’s pulse spiked. “Really?” He looked at Nino, brow furrowed. “How would you know?”

Nino smiled. “Of the two of us, who’s the one who’s actually dating?”

Adrien started to shake his head, but wait hold on – “How did you ask out Alya?” And why had he never thought to ask for this crucially important piece of information before?

“Well...” Nino thought. “We were just hangin’ out, you know, stuck in that cage, and laughing about something, and I was like, ‘hey do you wanna go out for a bite after we get out of here?’ and she was like, ‘it’s a date’. I thought it would be really hard, but she just sort of makes me feel at ease.”

Well that was useless. There was nothing about Marinette that made Adrien feel _at ease_. Well, not since he’d discovered she was Ladybug –

Wait.

“So, just talk to her like I usually do, and then just, sort of –”

“Ask her, yep.” Nino smiled and held out his hand for a fist-bump. “You’re gonna be fine, bro.”

Adrien bumped his hand. “Thanks, Nino.”

“No problem. Now come on,” he jerked his thumb towards the door. “Let’s eat.”

So, Adrien thought, after they’d finished lunch and were heading back to class. How to do this?

_Let her set the terms_ , Marinette had said. So, a proper love confession. _Like you were planning on doing months ago_ , Plagg had said, and how was _he_ the one with the answer?

What had Adrien done with that love poem he’d written?

No, that was stupid. He just had to say it. _I don’t need poetry_ , he’d said himself. _I’ll just tell her_.

_Hey, Marinette, I need to tell you something_ , he thought in math class that afternoon.

_So, I really like you, and if you want to, would you date me? But you don’t have to, of course_ , he thought in P.E.

_So I just wanted to tell you that I’m in love with you_ , he thought in literature class, _but enough about me, how are you?_

_I’m doomed_ , he thought as the bell rang and everyone filed out into the hallway.

It was so overwhelming that he didn’t realize he wasn’t looking where he was going until he bumped into –

“Marinette! Uh, sorry!”

She smiled, adjusting her purse. “That’s okay. Are you alright? You seem kind of distracted.”

_You’re kind of distracting_. But no, he’d told himself he’d stop doing that. “Uh, it’s nothing! Just thinking about...stuff.” _Nice_ , he thought, and it sounded like Plagg.

Marinette tilted her head. “Really, are you okay? It’s not like you to miss an opportunity for a line like that.”

Adrien’s mouth fell open.

“I mean!” Marinette blushed. “I guess you don’t want to be flirty at school? I’m just – uh.” She glanced around; they were alone in the hallway now. “I’ve been trying to combine the two of you in my head, and...well.”

“No, I just thought,” Adrien scrambled, “I mean I guess I’m not sure where I stand on acting like – like myself, or – but I’ve just been thinking that maybe you didn’t like it when I flirted with you like that. And that maybe I should have gotten the message earlier.”

Marinette blushed harder, but smirked. Like a Ladybug-Marinette sandwich. “It can be annoying in battle. But I, um, actually like our banter? It’s fun and, uh – kind of cute?”

It was? Did that mean _he_ was kind of cute?

Marinette fidgeted. “So I don’t mind. Uh, but! Thanks for checking, though! That’s good of you. B-but now that I know it’s you...uh. Well I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

“About what?” Adrien croaked.

“Um!” Marinette stood ramrod straight. She took a deep breath. “Would you like to go on a date sometime? With me?”

“A – date?” His heart thudded. And then possibly stopped.

“Y-yeah! If you want to.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “The weather’s supposed to be nice this weekend so I had this idea for a picnic in the park but we could just go for smoothies or a movie or –”

“You really want to go on a date with me?” The gravity was off again, Adrien was sure of it.

Marinette’s blush was worse than ever, but she wasn’t looking away. “Yes. If you want to.”

He wasn’t sure when he’d started smiling. “Yeah – yes! Of course, let’s do it!”

She beamed. “Yeah? This Saturday afternoon?”

How did she know that was his only scheduled free-time? “That’s perfect. One o’clock?”

“Great! I’ll pick you up. You bring a blanket, I’ll get the food.”

“Okay.” Was he breathing?

“Great!” Marinette repeated. She was smiling, too. “I’ll see you then! Well, I mean obviously I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” she was backing away, waving a hand around, “but, you know. It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” Adrien breathed. Then, inspired, he gave a flourishing bow. “Until then, my lady.”

Marinette giggled, then waved, tripped a little, and walked off.

She’d _giggled_. He had made Ladybug giggle. Marinette giggled when Adrien flirted with her.

Adrien practically skipped down the school steps towards the car that waited for him.

“You two are so embarrassing,” Plagg complained quietly from Adrien’s chest pocket as Adrien slipped into the back seat.

But Adrien just sighed skyward and slid his head against the window.

“Completely hopeless,” Plagg griped.

*^^^*

Adrien shuffled his feet, fencing foil in hand, as he waited backstage, unable to keep still. He heard a crunch and looked down – he’d accidentally stepped on another one of Rose’s origami flowers, which had started the evening on her wall-sized scrapbook pages (by far the Spring Arts Gala’s most popular exhibit), but which had, throughout the event, made their way between the streets of Max’s scale model of downtown Paris, onto the speakers playing a selection of Ivan’s songs, and – mostly – into Juleka’s hair.

 “You alright?”

Adrien looked up to see his fencing partner smiling at him. A rival from fencing lessons who had, to Adrien’s surprise, volunteered quite readily to help with his act.

Perhaps he was better at making friends than he’d thought.

“I’m fine,” Adrien told him, his voice only sort of squeaky, his stomach only sort of rolling. “Just a bit nervous.”

His partner nodded. “Fair enough. Me too. I just channel it into my excitement.”

Channel –

“Yo,” Nino stepped through a curtain towards them. He was still dressed in the green suit he had modelled for Marinette’s fashion walk. “How were we?” Behind him came Alya, sporting Marinette’s red dress, and Marinette herself, flushed and beaming with a sowing bag hanging off her shoulder.

“You were amazing,” Adrien told them, keeping his voice down –  Mylène was currently performing her monologue onstage. He reached for Marinette’s hand. “Your designs are incredible.”

She smiled, linking their fingers together. “Thanks.”

Adrien’s stomach settled, just a bit. “You’ll have to make something for me to model someday.”

The way Marinette smirked and looked him over top to bottom had him blushing like a stoplight and Nino snickering into his hand. “Sounds like fun,” she said.

“Woah girl,” Alya chuckled, pulling Marinette back. “Don’t get him worked up before his gig. There’s a big audience out there.”

Adrien’s stomach un-settled, quite a lot. “There is?”

Alya waved her hands out in front of her. “I mean, no, not _that_ big, it’s nothing to –”

Spinning around, Adrien walked quickly into the left wing of the stage and peered between a gap in the curtains at the audience beyond. It _was_ big. Not an army of knights or a giant stone monster or a pack of wild animals, but still –

He jolted; sitting in the front row, right in the middle, was his father. His _father_ was _here_. But Adrien had been sure Father couldn’t make it, he’d said he was busy this evening, he’d said –

He’d said he had plans.

Adrien felt a hand on his, and jumped. He turned to see Marinette looking softly at him.

“My father’s here,” he breathed.

“Of course he is,” Marinette whispered. She squeezed Adrien’s hand, and his eyes stung.

Applause sounded from the audience. Adrien looked over to see Mylène bowing, grinning wider than he’d ever seen her. Ivan threw a rose onto the stage, and she picked it up, actually blowing a kiss to him as she exited.

Sabrina entered from stage right, microphone in hand. “Thank you Mylène, for that stirring performance! Up next, we have a thrilling sword fight choreographed by Adrien Agreste, so hold on to your hats!”

Adrien tensed, stomach clenching and freezing him in place. He glanced into the other wing to see his partner, who saluted him as he flipped his mask down. _Channel it into excitement._ Adrien breathed in, shot another look at his father, gripped his foil, and felt his whole body light up.

He turned to Marinette. “Wish me luck, my lady.”

She opened her mouth, but then shut it again, eyes alight. She pulled a small red ribbon from her sewing bag, took his left hand and tied the ribbon around his wrist. “A token of my affection, brave sir,” she said with pomp, putting a hand over her heart.

Adrien was smiling again, fit to burst. He touched the ribbon and gave his best bow. “I am honoured indeed.”

Marinette smiled back, taking his face in her hands and pulling him into a kiss. “Knock ‘em dead, kitty-cat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IRL DON’T TAKE THAT LONG BACKSTAGE AFTER YOU’VE BEEN ANNOUNCED FOR THE LOVE OF GOD
> 
> Ok cool
> 
> This has been my contribution to the LadyNoir insecurities-about-identity-reveal trope. *bows overdramatically* 
> 
> This has also been my first attempt at writing real, actual romance instead of just implied romance, so please let me know if you thought I did alright! (or if I’m terrible at this. break it to me gently). Really, I’ve never done anything like this before and only sort of know what I’m doing so any comments you have would be hugely appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.


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